On Bended Knees

On wavering faith,

hoping and expecting,

wishing an answer would appear,

while praying on bended knees.

still on bended knees,

with sincere prayers offered from a pure heart,

of desires, birthed from long dreamed expectation

the wait continues.

As clocks chimes their last tune

and birds chimed their last sound

the watch becomes weary

the pain of it causes a shiver.

Slowly, from the place of despise a lesson is learned,

that though he bid us ask and believe

he also ask that we persist and trust

that he who feeds the sparrows

and catch a fallen tear!

He knows every want and care

and sees every prayer altered amidst a cloud of fear!

This assurance abound

that he will surely come,

however, when, we don't know

but of this I've learned,

that my role....

to be on bended knees

His? To answer anyhow!

© Deboo June 2008

There was once a widow and two children who lived in humble surroundings. The mother was sickly and could not make a living for the children.

Every night she knelt by the rough frame of a bed, covered with thin sheets and hand stitched quilts, and prayed a simple prayer: "Lord, please provide enough for my children to eat." Every morning the mother would make her way down the dark hall to the meagre kitchen. She would get the burners lit and place the pans on the stove, though she knew she had nothing in the cupboard to fix for her children. Then she would look out the front door, all the while a prayer in her heart, and just as she expected, there were the day's provisions over in the right corner of the rickety porch. She would joyfully make her way to the "treasure-filled" sack and find there just enough food for the day.

Back into the kitchen she would go her steps a little higher and a new lift in her voice as she called to the children, "Rise and shine", children. Time for school, “breakfast will soon be read”

The days passed in procession, each bringing with it a "treasure filled" sack to the humble surroundings of the widow and her growing children. As the needs of the children increased with age, so the provisions equally increased.Then, one day the little widow began to ponder in her heart. "Who brings those groceries? I never hear anything. The sack is always there. Maybe some morning, I could arise a little early and see."

So the next morning she got up a little earlier than usual. She made her way quietly to the front door and stood peeping through the window, watching the right corner of the front porch. Time came to get up still there was no sign of the welcome guest. Then came the time to light the fires and get the pans ready, still no one came. The clock on the mantle continued its steady ticking. It was not time for the children to get ready for school, yet she continued her vigil. Yet, a fruitless one it appears to be, for no guest came that due lit morning.

The little widow turned sadly from the door way, a heart felt lesson resounding in her being. “My job” she thought is to pray. His is to answer. How he wants to do it, is his decision…..


Picture.. "By Photobucket"